The Missing Adventures of Hawke and Tethras
by Morrigan21
Summary: Marian Hawke and Varric Tethras are the best of friends, but with that friendship comes the occasional questionable exploit. A small silly piece started as part of a Secret Easter Bunny gift exchange.
1. Dockside Shenanigans

_**I came across this piece recently. It was actually supposed to be for a gift exchange last Easter. I am a terrible Easter Bunny because I'm almost a year late :( I'm still not sure that I'm happy with it, but I couldn't let it sit there for another year! So, here goes...** _

**DOCKSIDE SHENANIGANS**

A chill wafted through the night air as it swept in over the docks of Kirkwall, bringing with it the stagnant smell of dead fish and algae. Marian Hawke lifted the metal cover, and poked her head up from the tunnel below. She listened briefly to the sound of the wind, the creaking of ropes, and the gentle slosh of water against wood and stone, before sliding the cover aside and climbing out. She ran a hand through her mussy, dark hair and peered down into the hole.

"Varric?" She whispered sharply into the darkness below. "Are you coming?"

A grunt was the only response that greeted her. After a few moments, the swarthy, stubbled face of her compatriot appeared – his golden earing glinting in the moonlight. "Whoever made these ladders certainly didn't have short people in mind." He struggled to hoist himself up the last rung to the lip of the hole, frowning when Marian reached down to offer him her hand.

Varric swatted her hand away and kicked himself up over the top. Suppressing a grin, she pulled back her hand and placed it on her hip. "I did offer to let you go first." She shook her head at the stubborn dwarf. "I could've helped."

Varric slid the cover back into place and dusted off his hands before addressing his cohort. "If your brand of help involves groping my backside, I think I'll pass."

Marian lifted an eyebrow and cocked her lips into a sly smirk. "You know, Varric, I've been told I have a rather pleasant groping technique. Maybe you should try it before you dismiss it so callously."

The dwarf reddened, but before he could dole out a witty response, the sound of voices and shuffling feet in the distance disrupted their little exchange. Marian ducked behind a stack of crates at the edge of the dock and waived for Varric to join her. They settled into their hiding spot and waited to determine if the voices were moving closer. The footsteps approached, nearly coming around the barrel that Varric was partially hiding behind, forcing him to edge nearer to Hawke.

Marian was too busy focusing on the approaching voices to notice the dwarf, or more to the point – Bianca, until it was too late. The custom crossbow with a mysterious female namesake strapped to Varric's back had been pre-loaded for their venture through secret passages beneath the docs. The trigger mechanism was locked to prevent an accidental misfire, but that didn't protect innocent bystanders from the sharp point of the readied crossbow bolt. The piercing tip sank into Marian's tender bottom, causing her to yelp and jerk away from the source of the pain and into the stack of crates meant to conceal them.

The voices fell to a hush and Varric heard the distinct sound of weapons being unsheathed. He glanced over at Hawke who was glaring at him in much the same way he had seen her stare down a pesky spider or rat. The dwarf shrugged and tilted his head towards the group of thugs inevitably headed their way. Marian's annoyed expression quickly melted as she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips thoughtfully. Varric saw the mischievous twinkle in his companion's bright blue eyes before she even opened her mouth. She let out a horrendous animal-like yowl that eventually turned into a hissing sound. Furrowing his eyebrows, Varric thought perhaps she'd lost a morsel of sanity. Marian batted lightly at the crates and continued to make the Maker-awful noises. When he continued to simply stare at her, she gave him an expectant look and made claw gestures with her hands.

Varric shook his head and ran a hand over his face. _She really means to make them believe we are a couple of cats in a scuffle?_ With a sigh he joined in, his guttural mewing coming out more like a dying goat, but they heard the men's feet halt.

"What in Andraste's name is goin' on back there?" One of the men inquired of the others.

"Sounds like a cat fight," another responded with disbelief.

A female voice, gruff and angry, piped in, "Can't be! I ain't seen a single cat in Kirkwall. Rats, yeah…but cats?"

"Go check it out then," the first man ordered.

"I ain't goin' back there," the woman sneered.

As the band of mercenaries and thieves argued amongst themselves, Marian and Varric continued their ruse in the hopes that they might give up, but both readied their weapons in the event that they did not. Just when they thought they would be found out, a miracle – that could only be a result of Hawke's strange brand of Maker-blessed luck – occurred, and a scruffy orange and white patched cat sauntered up to where they sat. It stared with its one good eye at Marian as she let out another deep yowl. The cat sniffed at them, conflicted by the sounds coming out of these two strange beings who were obviously not the brethren creatures it had been expecting to find. Hawke took advantage of the opportunity and hissed loudly, lunging at the cat and effectively frightening it into running out from behind the crates and towards the waiting thugs – who were still arguing about the potential animal encounter.

From their hiding spot, Marian and Varric fell silent and waited. One of the men let out a womanly shriek, the cat hissed and growled loudly in response. The rest of the group laughed at their comrade's reaction.

"What?" The man's voice sounded defensive. "I hate cats."

"And it appears they hate you!" The gruff female voice let out a loud guffaw.

Eventually the laughter died down and since no one had taken it upon themselves to check behind the crates, Marian and Varric relaxed into their hiding place and listened.

"So, where's this cart person?" One of the men asked of the others.

"That's Carta, you idiot!" The woman was addressing them again as if she might be their leader. "Carta is a group of mercenary dwarves, not the name of one of them."

"Whatever," the man responded, his voice sounded weary.

Varric's eyes met Marian's and he mouthed the word "Karshol" to her. She nodded her understanding. They had been trying to track the movements of one of the Carta Lieutenants for months, but Karshol was careful, he never showed his face in public – typically sending cronies to broker his agreements for him. Marian wasn't so sure that he would make his appearance here, but even a crony was a lead, and they had been running out of those as of late.

The next few minutes seemed to draw out, as Hawke and Varric remained crouched in their uncomfortable hiding space waiting for the mysterious carta member to make an appearance. Finally, they heard the crowd of thugs fall into a hushed silence – which probably meant that an outsider was approaching. Some feet scuffled across the dock and the sound of strong footfalls, attached to a sure stride grew louder.

"Are you Merren?" The voice that sounded in the wake of the approaching footsteps came out more like a squeak than the burly growl one might have expected from a tough Carta dwarf.

"I am Merren," the female of the group responded.

"Berav," the dwarf replied by way of introduction. "I hear you have a problem that needs fixing."

"My employer has been plagued by a few too many guard patrols as of late," the one called Merren began. "We've been told that your men have some creative ways of reducing those patrols."

"For the right price."

The sound of a coin purse being jostled about followed.

"That's a good down payment," the dwarf responded, presumably assessing the amount that Merren had offered him.

"We'll see if you're worth that price first," the female's voice was firm. "If you prove your worth. There'll be another purse that size waiting for you."

There was a stretch of silence as the two undoubtably assessed one another.

The dwarf made a harrumphing sound. "Alright, human. You give the where and when. We'll be back for that purse, plus half."

"Lowtown foundry district. Tomorrow night. I'll be waiting at The Blooming Rose for confirmation of a job completed."

The group quickly disbanded after that, leaving Varric and Marian to ponder whether they should rendezvous at the foundry or the brothel the following night.


	2. Dressing like a Rose

_**I came across this piece recently. It was actually supposed to be for a gift exchange last Easter. I am a terrible Easter Bunny because I'm almost a year late :( I'm still not sure that I'm happy with it, but I couldn't let it sit there for another year! So, here goes...**_

**DRESSING LIKE A ROSE**

Marian pulled at the powder blue form fitting dress. She couldn't stand the way it constricted her midsection, forcing her to make shallow breaths and sit perfectly straight. The attire brought her more in touch with her own bosom than she had been in a very long time. To keep from staring at the trussed up mounds nearly falling out of her top, she allowed her cool blue eyes to follow the movements of one of the elven girls, wearing what could best be described as underclothes, as she sauntered through the tavern section of the brothel. The hungry eyes of the men followed the sway of the girl's hips, as she tried to induce in them an itch that only she could scratch. Marian detested this place. It reeked of depravity and degradation, but she and Varric had decided that it was more prudent to follow up on the set meeting at The Blooming Rose, rather than jumping into the fray during the attack in Lowtown – not that she hadn't taken the time to warn Aveline of a potential assault on her fellow guardsmen and guardswomen first. At least this time the guardswoman didn't prod Hawke about the source of her information. Perhaps she had finally realized that sometimes it was best not to know of her friend's more unsavory dealings.

Marian readjusted the curly blonde wig she wore to disguise her real identity and tried to maintain a more feminine air, while Varric sat with his back to her at the next table over. At that moment she was glad they hadn't invited any of their friends along. She could just imagine what some of them would think of this picture. With the help of a little coin slipped to the proprietress, Marian had managed to maintain the image of one of the girls without the directed attentions of most of the men. According to their agreement, she would be labeled as having a very special "appointment" – with one who didn't take kindly to others touching his property. She'd had to shoo away a few stragglers, but most of the men knew that Madam Lusine was the gatekeeper of the brothel and if she didn't approve the transaction it wouldn't end well.

"Anything yet, Hawke?" Varric murmured over one shoulder.

"I haven't seen anyone who I would expect to be part of our mercenary band, but I don't have much to go on. I'm more likely to recognize a voice." Marian readjusted herself again. "Next time you get to wear the uncomfortable disguise."

"I'm not sure I could pull off that dress quite the same way." He chuckled. "I don't believe I have the assets."

Marian smirked to herself. "Are you looking at my assets again, Mr. Tethras?"

A slight flush covered Varric's cheeks and he looked down at the worn table planks glad that Marian couldn't see his reaction. "They are kind of hard to miss this evening."

"Trust me, I know." She frowned and let out a shallow sigh, causing her breasts to heave in protest.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, the dwarf stood and whispered to Marian. "I'm going to make a quick round through the side rooms." He grabbed up his tankard and wandered away. Marian watched him go, feeling suddenly more exposed. She tried to take on a look of bored disinterest, but she couldn't help but stare at some of the lascivious displays taking place around her. Adjusting her bodice again, she felt a slight stirring in her midsection and it occurred to her for the first time in a long time that she hadn't taken a companion in quite some time. Not that there hadn't been any offers, but she was selective with her affections. Marian glanced around the Rose once more. She certainly had a different set of standards than what she expected to find here.

Two rough looking men sidled up to Marian at that moment. The first was a dark-skinned man with stringy hair and a gap in his front teeth. His cohort had a few more teeth and a bit less hair. Both men were in serious need of a bath and a change of clothes. She pretended to ignore their presence and sipped at her cup of wine.

"Aye," the gap-toothed man ran a calloused finger up her arm, "how much fer a tumble?"

"More than you can afford, sir," Marian gritted out through a thin-lipped smile. "Appointments are taken by the lady of the house and I'm already awaiting mine."

"I don't see anyone." The balding man slid his hand down her back to her rump. "You sure you don't have time for us before your appointment?" He squeezed a handful of her butt cheek firmly.

The other man thunked a large purse of coins onto the table. "We got plenty o' gold."

"And there are plenty of girls who would be happy to oblige you, I'm sure." Marian stood to leave the table. "Excuse me."

The gap-toothed man gripped her arm and tried to hold her from leaving. "Ya talk awful fancy fer a whore." He squinted his eyes at her.

"I suggest you let the lady go," Varric was standing beside her at that moment, hand on the hilt of the dagger he kept sheathed on his belt.

Both men just stared down at the dwarf. "And who might you be?" the one with the coin in one hand and Marian's arm in the other spat down at him.

"I would be her appointment, boys." Varric bowed with the ease of a gentleman and took her hand from the creton's grasp. Brushing his lips over her knuckles, he looked into Marian's eyes. "Sorry I was delayed, my dear."

A disgusted look crossed the men's faces.

The gap-toothed one collected up his coin and moved away from the pair. "Ya got a thing for dwarves, huh?"

They watched in horror as Marian knelt in front of Varric, took his face in her hands, and pressed her lips to his with the intimacy of lovers. Varric stiffened, but allowed her to play the part so as not to arise suspicions.

One of the men made a gagging noise.

"That's just weird," the other muttered and soon they both moved away, no doubt in search of another conquest.

Marian's hand had trailed into the gentle matting of Varric's chest hair and when she leaned back from the kiss her hand lingered a little longer than was prudent. He cleared his throat and gently lifted her hand from his broad chest. They both stared at each other, a bit unsettled by the intimate moment.

"Perhaps we should move you to a less visible location," Varric suggested.

Marian blushed and got to her feet. "That might be wise." She glanced around the room. "Isn't it strange that we haven't seen any of the mercenaries yet?"

"I was thinking the same thing." He led her to one of the side rooms that he had just scouted.

There were only a few people hiding out in darkened corners, speaking in hushed tones to each other. It was certainly less threatening, although it made keeping an eye on the main area more challenging.

"Maybe we should check some of the other rooms," Marian suggested.

Varric grunted. "And how do you propose we do that?"

She winked at him. "We are overzealous lovers looking for a private spot…aren't we?"

The dwarf's eyebrows shot up as he considered the suggestion. "I suppose we are."

"Well," Marian took hold of Varric's hand, "let's go then."

"You are going to be the death of me, Hawke," Varric grunted, but allowed her to drag him along behind her.

They spent the next 20 minutes, wandering in and out of rooms throughout the brothel, with the guise of feigned groping and lusty laughter. Most didn't give them nary a glance, but in the upper rooms they managed to interrupt at least two compromising scenarios – one which resulted in a harsh reprimand and the other a playful invitation. At the third room, they found themselves locked from entry. Not necessarily suspicious in that particular establishment, unless one was seeking out someone who was purposely hiding. Marian tried knocking, but no one answered. Varric pulled out his lock pick and she moved to disguise him as he worked at the door.

Just then, a couple of dwarves entered the brothel and made their way straight for the stairs up to the second level. With little time to react, Marian grabbed Varric and pressed him into the corner.

"What the–" Varric nearly dropped the pick out of sheer surprise.

Marian silenced him with a kiss, then drew back to whisper in his ear. "The carta is coming." She took his hand and placed it on her behind. "Bury your head in my neck."

Varric complied. The dwarves moved past them as if it was no surprise to see such a display. One yelled out for them to "get a room," causing the others to laugh in response, but aside from that they paid them no mind.

Marian listened as they approached the door and knocked, twice slow and three times fast. The door creaked open a smidge and words were exchanged before everyone was ushered inside and the door firmly locked behind them.

Varric looked from the door to Hawke. "Well, I'd say we found the place."

Marian nodded. "Agreed. What do you propose we do?"

As Varric and Hawke discussed the finer points of getting into the room and crashing the meeting from their little corner of the brothel, they missed the approach of Aveline and her fellow city guards. The slight clang of armor sounded as she approached and stopped just short of their hiding spot. "Varric?" the imposing guardswoman cleared her throat with a question in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Varric moved out of the corner, leaving Hawke with her back to their fiery-haired friend. "Aveline! Lovely night isn't it?"

"That is not an answer." Aveline crossed her arms over her breastplate and stared down at the charming storyteller.

Varric put his hands up and shrugged. "Reconnaissance?" He said it as more of a question than a statement as if he wasn't sure if that would lift the guardswoman's ire or not. Her silence obviously prompted him to continue. "I just thought I'd keep an eye on the place in case there was trouble. And hey, look…trouble. But you're here so…I guess you got it handled."

"I would say so," she stared him down for a moment. "Have a good evening, Varric. I hope you'll be gone by the time we come back out."

"My thoughts exactly," Varric agreed with a smile.

Aveline turned to follow the other guards. "Be sure to take Hawke with you," she shot over her shoulder.

Varric froze and glanced at Marian, his eyebrows lifted and his lips turned down as he tried to hide a smirk. She shook her head at him and stood back up to her full height. "Well, so much for being incognito," she frowned and pulled the ridiculous wig from her head. "Hanged Man?" she questioned as she tossed the wig aside.

"Yeah," Varric rubbed the back of his neck. "I know I could go for a drink."

Marian laughed and tugged at the bodice of her gown. "Yeah, me too."

They headed down the stairs in silence. As they shuffled their way to the front door, Varric took in Hawke's appearance once more. His eyes traveled her length from head to foot. He cleared his throat, "Oh, and Hawke…you may want to consider a change of clothes."

She laughed and an amused twinkle brightened her eyes. "Aww…are my ladylike endowments making you uncomfortable again, Mister Tethras?"

"Well, they certainly draw attention to themselves," he muttered. "Not that I'm into that kind of thing," Varric began to protest.

"Right," Marian nodded. "Of course you're not." She hoisted her bosom and walked ahead of Varric, a smile spreading over her face as she imagined the dwarf's discomfort as he was forced to watch the gentle sway of her hips.

Varric swore under his breath and focused on the stonework of the path in front of him.


End file.
